


Moondust

by MerryLittleMess



Category: Bitten (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kidnapping, My First Work in This Fandom, Nick Whump, Post series finale, Post-Season/Series 03, Season/Series 04, Witches, Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 23:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10450104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerryLittleMess/pseuds/MerryLittleMess
Summary: Did you ever wonder how the witches would react to Elena's reveal in season three? This is what could have been if a coven of angry witches showed up at Nick's home one night.





	

You can never quite appreciate the meaning of "Blitzkrieg" until you are shaken awake at 3:19 a.m. by the shockwave of an explosion. The reddishly flickering ghosts of flames on the walls make for bad company, but they sure wake you up quick. For Nick, it took less than three seconds to rise out of a regrettably fantastic dream featuring Rachel and an obscene amount of whipped cream in order to jump out of bed with a vicious curse.  
Although he was wearing nothing but a ratty pair of pajama bottoms, he switched into battle mode immediately and gathered his wits around him like chain mail, assessing the damage and danger. Raging fire, cracked walls, probably rendering his home unstable. Outside he could hear voices and Nick padded over to where the woods and the cool darkness beckoned beyond glass panes. Sneaking a peek revealed a number of women who stood in a loose circle, all of them featuring prominent jewelry somewhere on their bodies.   
"Alright", Nick grumbled sarcastically and ruffled his hair in frustration and, honestly, in confusion. He wasn't aware that he or the pack had pissed off any witches recently. Apart from his one-time lover Paige and his current girlfriend Rachel, he didn't even know any witches. Which of course begged the question who the fuck was burning down his house with him inside.  
Thank God Rachel and the kid are visiting her family, Nick thought, noticing with a bad tingling sensation in his stomach that the wooden floor boards were becoming warmer beneath him. Time to go then, preferably without being seen by the herd of Madame Mims' outside. Nick had no illusions regarding his prowess: if it came down to an open fight between him and a full-fledged coven, he'd be toast.  
Therefore, Nick hastily opened the bedroom door, which allowed thick grey smoke to creep in like snatching fingers. His sense of smell was assaulted with the aroma of burning lacquer and plastic. His sight was low, barely five feet in front of him. For all intents and purposes he was blind.  
The mental comparison made Nick cringe. Hurrying down the smoldering stairs, he remembered his first meeting with Paige in strange clarity. He'd been blinded then, too. "Not happening again", he muttered grimly as he krept through the burning rooms, avoiding witnesses like a burglar in his own home. Nonetheless, a distincly female shape awaited him behind the curtain that obscured the window to the back porch.   
Smart. He had to give them that. But they weren't Hermoine and he wasn't a sheep to be lured out where they wanted him. He was pack. With a dangerous glint in his eyes, Nick pushed the carpet aside and opened the trapdoor that had been hidden beneath. Once down inside the narrow tunnel, he coughed the smoke out of his lungs and cleared his watering eyes. His steps were deliberate, certain even though he was still at a disadvantage because his car was unreachable in the garage and that only left running as a viable plan of action. Or taking a stand.  
Which of course was a ridiculous idea he shouldn't entertain. Then again, they were attacking the place he'd chosen for himself and his family and damn him if that didn't anger the primal part in him. There was a beast situated in his chest that roared for vengeance. A wolf.  
Elena would advise me to let it go, Nick thought, hesitating as he saw the light of the stars shine through the cracks in the second trap door. A lazy breeze carressed his skin, urging him to go on. And do what? Clay would have already torn them in half. Or the first Salem Sister at least before the rest put him down. In the end it was the thought of Antonio, his own father, that prompted Nick to get a grip on his revenge fantasies and stay on solid ground, because for all the satisfaction he might gain in an assault, Rocco would need a father and he was the only option now that Logan was gone.  
Thus, Nick cautiously left the tunnel and crouched inside the bushes surrounding the exit. Even a good hundred meters away from the house he was accompanied by the dancing reflections of the flames and he could feel the heat on his face as he looked at the destruction. They had only bought the property two months ago once the first shock of The Unveiling had settled. Now it was gone.  
Clenching his teeth, Nick turned to head deeper into the forest and disappear. No dry leaves or twigs cracked beneath his feet, yet the icy lump in his belly loudly informed him of aproaching danger that headed for him like speedig bullet. He could smell her, the scent of jasmine and rust behind him and to the left. Too close not to notice him if he tried to walk away. Was she as aware of his presence as he was of hers?  
Only one way to find out, he thought and lunged for her black outline against the flames. Her head whipped around in the same instance as his hands wrapped around her neck with deadly accuracy. Nevertheless he was too late, unable to contain the strangled cry that broke the murmuring of her coven. Nick reacted purely on instinct, eliminating the threat.   
The witch's body fell to the ground in a heap like an excavated scarecrow, but Nick was too busy running to spare her a glance. Multiple spells chased after him and he ducked as he felt a particularly nasty one rush for him like a football of condensed air. It grazed him, catapulted him off his feet and into a sturdy oak, but Nick rebounded with a grimace and continued, counting himself among the lucky ones. Rachel had shown him the effects of that spell once. It could easily have blown him apart like a porcellain vase.   
Cracked ribs protested and Changing was out of the question. What else was there? His mind raced through hundreds of possibilities while he sprinted as fast as his long legs would allow, the angry storm of female voices following him. Talk? Hide? Ambush them? Find a save haven?  
As the thick stump of a mighty ash tree next to him split like kindling beneath an axe, Nick opted for the last possibility. Already his breathing was ragged and they were gaining, as impossible as that should have been for a mere human. Hence, he'd have to find a public space until the pack could come pick his lame ass up and sort out this mess.  
Fortunately, there was an 24/7 biker bar ahead. It would have to do. Nick allowed himself a grin as he imagined the expression on the cute bartender's face if he showed up in his dishevelled state, mostly undressed and filthy. Oh, he could work with that.  
He was in the midst of elegantly evading a batch of gnarled roots when one of them had the audacity to move. Out of nowhere, the wood reached up and furled around his right ankle like a vice. Leg muscles stretched unnaturally as the fluid motion of running was stopped abruptly. Nick fell, breaking his own bone as his leg bent in a way the trapped ankle could not compensate for. Moreover, his head collided with the ground in a rather spectacular fashion, stunning him.   
“What the fuck?” A moan of pain escaped his mouth as he tried to disentangle the limb, but the stubborn tree would not give. His hands, half formed to claws, scratched over the old wood to no avail. Damn those witch bitches. Nick slapped away another wreathing root, braced himself with one hand across his ribs and slowly sat up to lean against the trunk of his wooden captor to face the women.  
“Ladies”, he addressed them, trying for charm and falling just short of contained fury, “To what do I owe the pleasure of this late night visit?”  
“Paige”, the smallest of the group snapped before she was harshly silenced by the others. There were six women in all, most of them young. Nick immediately picked out the leader: a bleach blond beach baby that would have been more suited to grace the cover of a glossy but cheap magazine than hunt down wolves during the night. He fixed his eyes on her, hands now in his lap as if he were having a relaxed afternoon chat. As if he wasn't rattled by the ambush. As if he wasn't tired and in pain.   
However, she seemed to see right through his disguise, zooming to his injuries like a hawk, albeit one with bright pink lipstick.  
“Does it hurt?” Was she gloating? Yep, that satsified smile said it all. Definitely gloating.  
“A scratch.”  
“Yeah right.” She wasn't fooled, so Nick dropped the act of friendliness and cut the crap. After all that had happened during the last hour, the time for civility had passed.  
“What the fuck do you want from me?”  
“Insurance”, a black haired, slightly more sporty looking woman answered. She reminded Nick of an ex, Lara. Lara had had a mean streak as wide as the Mississippi River, too.  
“I'm not a lawyer. I don't deal in insurance.”  
“No, but you were her lover, wolf boy”, Beach Baby sneered. In that instance, Nick wanted to laugh and sigh in equal measure. Choosing the latter, he closed his eyes and rested his head against the rough bark behind him for a heartbeat.  
“Paige means nothing to me. We parted ways about a year ago, no feelings hurt. It was a fling, why do you care to come knocking after all this time?”  
“It wasn't a fling for her”, the small woman interjected quietly, but Nick stayed focused on the leading lady, who bent down in front of him in a condescending manner, almost in reach but not quite. If only he could get his hands on one of them he might negotiate his way out.  
“I suppose you're not coming quietly?” That was not-Lara. He grinned at her, exposing his true wolf and noticing with a sense of amusement the unease that spread among them.  
“No.”  
“Fine!”, the blond and blue eyed witch hissed with more venom than strictly necessary. “You killed Claudia! Sisters!” Snapping her fingers commandingly, she retreated into the group and almost simultaneously they all reached for their amulets. Oh Shit.  
“Do your worst”, he said, determined not to show any fear even though his heart beat like a hammer. Some of them smiled meanly and they started chanting something, at which point Nick started to scream.


End file.
